


Wailing and Gnas[H]ing of Teeth

by MeetTheTank



Series: Flesh and Me[T]al [4]
Category: NieR: Automata (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Body Worship, Comfort Sex, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Physical Trauma, feral androids, i understand priorities, the sex is in chapter 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-01-09 01:04:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12265770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeetTheTank/pseuds/MeetTheTank
Summary: The sins of the past will return as vengeful ghosts.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welp thanks to the belligerent nagging of several individuals that shall remain unnamed...-side eyes-...This thing is gonna be a 3 parter. Yaaaaaaaaaaaay!
> 
> Also if you wanna check out more on the concept of Feral Androids, take a look at this post 
> 
> https://nierly-amazing.tumblr.com/post/164842968680/feral-androids

It quickly becomes obvious to 2B that something is wrong.

The pleasant sounds of various species of birds, or the idle meandering of moose and boar are absent from the commercial facility. There weren't even any insects calling to each other. An eerie stillness hangs in the air that was normally so full of life. Even the great trees that support ancient concrete seem to loom menacingly in ways they have not before.

This was supposed to be a simple mission. So simple that 9S hadn't come along, taking up a similar job of his own. All 2B was supposed to do was meet up with an android the resistance had been in contact with to pick up supplies and deliver payment. There weren't even any machine lifeforms in the area the last time she had Pod 042 scan from them.

So what was this pervasive feeling of unease?

2B grips the pommel of her sword as she enters the ruined building. Faint rays of sunlight filter down through the leaves fade as clouds wash the scene in a cool grey. The temperature cools slightly, but the humidity remains as oppressive as ever. If she put stock into that sort of thing, she might have considered it an omen.

She scans the ruined foyer for signs of their contact but finds nothing resembling an android. Only plants and rubble. The glimmer of light reflecting off of dark liquid catches her eye suddenly. Dread rises in her chest as she inspects the splatters of red that dot the ruined floors. There isn't much, only small clusters of drops here and there, but it's enough to put her on the defensive.

The more she examines the scene, the more evidence of a fight she finds. Beyond the smatterings of blood, there are divots in the ground along with recently shattered concrete. They're irregularly placed and nothing nearby that could have fallen to make such a mark. Perhaps a blunt weapon?

There are two sets of footprints nearby as well. One set is from someone wearing heavy boots. Those are close by the splatters of blood. The other set is much more troubling. At first glance, it appears to be a barefoot android, but upon further inspection, there are handprints as well. From the way only one hand seems to be present in the tracks, she assumes the other must have been holding something. 2B can't seem to place a gait to them at all, they're far too erratic. She couldn't imagine why an android would crawl around on all fours like the prints suggested, but neither machine nor animal left prints like this.

2B follows the tracks a few paces until she comes across something that only adds to her growing apprehension. Small puddles of a foul-smelling black goo lie near the bizarre tracks. At first, she almost mistakes it for oil, but the consistency is too thick and the smell too strong. This didn't come from any normal machine or android.

"Pod, give me an analysis on this." She commands.

"Scanning...Analysis: It is decomposed organic matter mixed with various oils and coolants."

Well, that explains the smell and the consistency, but not where it came from..

....

She wishes 9S were here. He's the investigator and she's just...

Here to break things.

....

2B shakes the thought away. Now isn't the time for that line of thinking. There's a missing android and who knows what else for her to find.

The bootprints end where long yet irregular marks in the dirt begin, and the odd tracks continue off to the side of those. Blood and the rotting sludge are present as well, in increasingly disturbing quantities. The further inside the commercial facility she goes, the easier it becomes to see what she's looking for. The ground is replaced with aged tiles and concrete, so she can no longer track the prints. However, the long smears of blood and gunk are enough for her to go on.

As she follows the tracks and blood into the deeper parts of the old mall, she is forced to carve her way through the overgrown plant life. Virtuous Contract makes quick work of the twisting vines and branches, but as she hacks through she hears something far beyond the ordinary.

It's a wet, tearing sound, accented by the soft screech of breaking metal and the low growling of some kind of beast. Though it didn't quite sound entirely organic, there's a wavering corruption in it that's eerily similar to a malfunctioning voice processor. It peaks to high pitched shrieks and dips to low bass tones at seemingly random intervals. Occasionally, it switches to a series of rhythmic mechanical clicks before returning to its original patterns.

2B quiets her breathing and crouches behind the thick trunk of an ancient tree, "Pod," she says in a harsh whisper, "Scan for machine signals in this area."

"Scanning...No machine signals detected."

"What? Then what the hell is this-"

"Alert: Unidentifiable black box signal detected. Proposal: Investigate immediately."

A black box signal? What was a Yorha unit doing out here? She was supposed to be the only one in this area. More concerning was the fact that it couldn't be identified.

Her grip on her sword tightens. Only a few possibilities run through her mind and each one ran a high risk of serious injury or death if she wasn't careful. She should call for backup at least, but that also risks more resources and lives being lost. Best to take care of this problem herself, while it was unaware of her.

2B charges around the ancient tree, her sword primed at her side for a quick strike at whatever this creature might be. However, the moment it comes into her line of sight she stops dead in her tracks. Her breath catches and her artificial heart seizes up....there's no way that this is-...

Hunched over the shredded corpse of what she assumed to be her contact was an android. Or at least... it used to be an android at some point. Its legs and feet are twisted almost beyond recognition, in a way that leaves her wondering how they support its weight. There are several jagged metal spikes that jut out of its back and keep its tattered black coat in place, some of them look like they might have been ribs at one time. Hands warped into horrific claws dig around inside the dead android, occasionally pulling up a chunk of metal or synthetic meat to feast on. What little was left of its white hair is stained a sick yellow, and a thin strip of black cloth hangs off its skeletal face.

2B prepares to strike at the back of the malformed creature's neck when the heavy smell of decay sends her reeling back. She fights against her own systems as bile rises in her throat, gagging and coughing in violent bursts. This beast seems to be the source of the rotting sludge, as more of the fetid liquid drops from its partially open stomach.

The monster's head whips around and 2B is momentarily blinded by a searing white light coming from its uncovered eye. It lowers its head and gnashes its fangs together at her, while one clawed hand grabs at a discarded length of pipe next to its meal. Gold buttons on its ruined coat glint in the light as well as the pendant of a familiar choker that dangles around its neck.

No....no it can't be...

There's no mistaking him, even in this state. As much as she wants to be wrong, she knows that this thing, this snarling cannibalistic /thing/ is...used to be...a 9S.

The deranged android beats the ground with its pipe and lets out a horrific, almost but not quite human shriek. It's grating metallic cry nearly overloads 2B's auditory processors, and while she's stumbling back from the pain it causes, the creature leaps at her. One powerful swing makes contact with her leg, just below her knee with a sickening metal crack. A single, pained gasp escapes her as she dodges backward as far as she can while sending a barrage of Pod fire at the beast.

It hobbles on all fours, evading the bullets of energy with what little remained of its programmed agility. While Pod 042 distracts the feral 9S, 2B assesses the damage done to her leg. Just one strike was enough to break the skin and nearly shatter her metallic frame. She could still move through the pain, but another hit like that would render that leg useless.

There's a moment where the beast has its back turned to her while it swats at her Pod with its crude weapon. It's the perfect opportunity to end this fight quickly and put it out of its misery. This thing is frail, only one slash would sever its decrepit head from its neck. 2B raises her sword and dashes towards it-...

_"My name is 9S, I'm here to provide support."_

.....

She stops short, just a few feet away from it.

She can't...

It's still him. Even in this state, it's still...

She can't bring herself to do it again.

"9S..."

The creature's head whips around, its one unblinking eye locks onto her. 2B wants to believe that there's recognition on its face, but it only shrieks at her. There's a split second window where she reacts quick enough to parry a strike away. The force of the blow sends her stumbling backward, but she has no time to right herself. The beast is relentless in its assault on her. Each swipe, whether it requires her to block or not, costs her precious ground. She'd be cornered soon if she didn't take advantage of the wide openings the creature gives her but....

" _You know ma'am...I'm glad you're here."_

She can't bring herself to attack him back.

The deranged 9S lets out a wild metallic shriek before lunging at her. 2B is only a half second too late on her parry, and it costs her. Its iron pipe cracks against her face, her nose shattering and upper lip splitting open upon impact. Searing pain and the sharp taste of copper dominate her mind. She doesn't even register the powerful kick she lands on the monster's chest, or the ungodly mechanical howl it makes as it sails backward.

While she has a spare minute, 2B wipes the stream of blood pouring from her nose away with the back of her hand. It's a futile effort as another trail beings to form mere seconds later. She looks away from the beast for a split second to spit a glob of blood and mucus that was pooling in the back of her throat. That brief moment is all that monster needs to get itself back on its feet.

It stalks a few yards away from her with more predatory grace than its malformed legs should allow. Flecks of the same black sludge that drips from its stomach fly from its mouths as if hisses and gnashes its teeth together at her. There are moments where 2B sees a flicker of intelligence in its one, unblinking eye. Like its sizing her up, looking for any sign of weakness to exploit. Occasionally it smacks its crude pipe against the ground in a simple rhythm. Perhaps it's trying to intimidate her?

2B takes a deep breath and tightens her grip on her sword. The combat high begins to take hold in her mind, pushing any sympathies she harbors towards this beast away. As far as she could see, there was no trace of the android this thing once was. The android that she had spent so much time with and-.....

It's best to just put it...him, out of his misery.

The thing that was 9S tenses up, the visible corded muscles in its biceps shifting grotesquely. 2B's eyes track each subtle, unnatural movement it makes. In a flash of wild movements it lunges at her, but this time she's prepared. She lands a quick but powerful strike with the hilt of Virtuous Contract in the creature's face as it leaps at her. The blinding white of its one eye is snuffed out, the optic shattered by the force of her blow. Its corrupt roar is cut off by a pathetic yelp, its body crashing into the ground nearby and skidding to a stop a few feet away from 2B. Dimly, she registers the splashes of black that stain the white on her gloves. It stings where it seeps through the fabric and touches her skin.

With renewed determination, she strides over to the collapsed android, her sword poised to sever its head from its neck in one quick motion. It seems to claw at its face, though it doesn't make a sound. One clawed hand drags the ruined blindfold from its face-

A single untouched eye, with the remnants of synthetic skin surrounding it, stares back at her. Though it's color is a dull solid grey, devoid of life, she sees not predatory hunger, but hate. A searing hate that gives her pause, however its the creatures words that make her muscles seize up and dread take her heart.

"Two....be...."

His voice is warped, mechanical, inhuman, and dripping with venom. He says her name like a curse, and with such force that she physically steps back.

"Do it..." 9S hisses, and when 2B makes no movement to oblige his grim request, he makes a harsh clicking sound.

He stands up, forcing his spine back into its original curvature with sickening creaks and groans. The black sludge pours out of his exposed abdomen, running down his legs and pooling onto the ground. The first few steps he takes are awkward as he forces his warped legs to support his weight, but a few audible cracks later and he's walking towards her.

"Cow...ard."

His voice is a malicious growl that peaks and dips with corruption, and yet there are still traces of that soothing voice 2B had come to treasure. It makes her skin crawl just listening to this perversion of 9S speak.

"Finish your...job...2B."

Each step he takes towards her, 2B matches it with a step backward. His shoulders heave and shudder with his labored wheezing, teeth snapping together occasionally. Puffs of steam rise from his skeletal maw with each breath.

9S' clawed hand tightens around his crude pipe, "...You don't remember, do you." He snarls, "You don't remember what you did to me."

The fact that he's right disgusts 2B. So much of his blood stains her hands that she isn't sure which belongs to this 9S. Was this one of the ones she stabbed? One that took his own life? Or one that she left for dead in the bottom of some pit.

She's too busy trying to remember that she doesn't see the pipe until it hits her across the cheek.

2B stumbles but remains upright. A thick trail of blood drips down her face where skin broke on impact. It hurts, and she's partially sure something is broken, but she makes no move to retaliate or even defend herself.

"You're a disappointment....to me."

9S strikes her in the shoulder next. A powerful downward swing that shatters the frame and the metallic bone. 2B drops to one knee, a harsh gasp escaping from her clenched teeth.

"I'm..." She can't stop the tears the pool in her eyes and stain her blindfold. It's unclear to her if they're due to the pain or from the fact that a fetid ghost from her past has come back to make her pay for all the wrong she's inflicted upon him.

"Worthless." 9S growls.

As 2B ties to stand up, he hits her again. The pipe slams into her stomach, knocking the breath out of her. She doubles over and blood flies from her lips, but she has no chance to process the pain as 9S swings the iron pipe upwards into her jaw.

"Worthless."

2B lies flat on her back. A warm, throbbing pain swells in multiple places on her body. Her shoulder, jaw, and a few places on her side are the most painful. She can't move her arm properly, it hurts to take harsh shuddering breaths. Dimly, she registers a number of missing teeth, as well as the soft click of 9S' claws against the ground as he stumbles towards her.

"Get...up." 9S wheezes. He slams his mangled heel into her stomach. A single choked sob escapes 2B as she rolls over and curls into herself.

"....I'm sor-" she's cut off by another kick, this time to her chest.

"Get up. Do your job."

2B can't stop the pitiful wail that forces its way through her clenched teeth, "I'm sorry!"

That gives him pause, weighted silence filling the air apart from his own raspy breathing. It doesn't last long, as he begins laughing at her. A harsh, spiteful laugh that makes his whole body shudder with effort.

"Don't."

9S bends down, spine creaking like it will snap at any given moment. The clawed fingers on his free hand worm their way through 2B's hair with shocking tenderness, until he digs the pointed tips into her scalp.

"Don't you dare apologize to me."

He hoists her up by her hair and scalp, forcing her to stare into his hazy grey eye. His breath smells just as putrid as the rest of him does. It takes what little remains of her self-control to not vomit right there.

"You don't deserve my forgiveness."

With force that shouldn't be possible for his rotting frame, he slams her head into the tile. Once. Twice. A splatter of blood stains both the aged floor and her stark white hair. Black spots swarm her vision like flies, mixing with the various warnings that flash one after the other. His hideous claws drag down the side of her head, leaving long gashes in her scalp before he lets her head fall once more.

She lies there in a growing pool of her own blood, watching 9S rise to his full height. She lies there in his shadow as he prepares to strike her again, pipe held high above his head. She lies there, her will to continue on drowning under the crushing pressure of her own self-hatred. Her consciousness fades. She's accepted her fate.

....

No.

Not like this.

She refuses.

A part of herself deactivates. The part that tethers her consciousness to her body. She feels weightless, barely in control, like her body is moving on its own. The only thing that echoes in her mind beyond the grey haze that clouds her thoughts...

....is survival.

The feral 9S swings its pipe at her head with the intent to kill but stops short of its mark. 2B's hand shoots up and catches the crude weapon in a vice grip. Despite his strength, 9S cannot rest his weapon free from her. To her, his efforts feel like gentle tugs.

2B feels like a spectator in her own body, floating somewhere above herself. She feels herself stand up and rip the pipe from 9S' grip. He tries to retaliate with his wicked claws, but she simply moves out of the way of his wild swipes. She dimly registers that the feral is beginning to panic. None of this feels real to her, it all drifts by her in gentle waves.

That changes the moment she strikes him with the pipe across his ruined chest.

The soft grey haze in her head explodes into a violent crimson. She wants to hurt, maim, rip arms from their sockets, feel bones crack against the force of her strikes, and tear what remained of his flesh from his body. Her whole world devolves into a bloody mess of screaming and shrieking metal.

She moves like a beast, unpredictable and impossibly fast. Faster than even the actual beast could keep up with. 9S tries to avoid the wild thrashing that can barely be called an attack with well-timed ducks and side steps. Even with one arm dangling uselessly at her side, she easily overpowers him. Perhaps if he had remained a beast, he would fare better against...well, a beast. It's a hopeless endeavor. 9S knows that. She will win, she always does. Still, he refuses to simply lay down and die. That stubbornness is how he ended up this decaying monster in the first place. He would rather go down with a fight and inflict as much revenge on the monster that ripped his life from him as he can.

The pipe cracks against his skull, the brittle metal caving in on impact. He falls to the ground and is hit again. Repeated powerful blows to his head send chunks of rusted metallic bone sailing into the air with each stroke. His vision is violently rendered useless when she crushes his eye socket with one last vicious blow.

2B snaps out of her daze quickly and violently. All at once the pain that had been drowned out by the combat high came crashing back down. Her shoulder, jaw, and nose scream from the exertion. Her throat aches from roaring, and exhaustion threatens to drown her.  She's covered in black sludge that stings her skin and mixes with her own blood.

She looks like a monster.

The dying feral pushes itself up with one feeble arm, shaking under its own weight. Despite having no functioning optics, it looks right into 2B's eyes and she swears she feels them pierce her heart.

"Heh...you'll always be a-....monster." It growls at her through countless malfunctions in its voice, "You'll always be...2....E."

With a desperate scream, she smashes his head in completely. Even though his body lies still, she continues her assault till 9S' head is unrecognizable. A gory pile of rust and blood.

2B doesn't stop screaming even after she stops hitting the corpse. She screams, roars, and shrieks until her throat won't allow her to make another sound. She tears at her hair, her face, the skin on her arms and neck. She punches the wall so hard that both the concrete and her hand break. She punches it again just to feel something other than her heart ripping itself apart.

The corpse of her partner mocks her. It lies there and taunts her with the fact that she doesn't recall what she did to him when she got that damned order. It berates her for abusing his trust again and again.

Worst of all, it reminds her of what she really is.

A monster.

It didn't matter how many times she grew close to him, fell for him, vowed to change, or made promise after promise to him.

He was right.

She would always be a monster.

She would always be 2E.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that took longer than expected

His quiet contemplation is shattered by a horrific wail. 

9S jolts up from his reclined position against a tree trunk, synthetic heart thundering in his chest. It wasn't the sound itself that made him sprint away from his quiet corner of the woods with his sword drawn, but it source. 

That scream didn't come from any random unlucky android. 

It was 2B.

He had never heard her scream like this before. Even in the heat of their most intense battles, she never made more than a pained gasp. Nor did she allow such raw emotions leak into her voice. Her screams were both terrifying in their ferocity as they were heartbreaking in the sorrow they contained.

9S commands his Pod to put her black box signal on his map with panicked desperation in his voice. Every moment he wastes running around in circles lessens the chance that he finds her alive. He shoves past several hostile machines that stand in his way. He doesn't hesitate to cross the rickety wooden bridge that leads to the commercial facility. 

"2B...2B...." he says to himself in between pants. 

_Please...please be okay..._

The commercial facility and everything leading up to it becomes a blur of plant and stone. 2B's screams are accented by the sound of something hitting a wall with incredible force. The earth itself seems to tremble each time he hears that sound. It's a vicious pattern that makes 9S' mind jump to any and all worst possible conclusions. She screams. Crash. The building rumbles. She screams again.

By the time 9S is cutting his way through the dense foliage that seals away the inner parts of the structure, 2B's screams have dissipated into wheezes and sobs. The stone shattering impacts from earlier have died down into wet thuds, and the sick stench of rot threatens to make the scanner wretch. 

He slashes through the last scraps of branches and vines with Cruel Oath and a fierce desperation into a large open rotunda. Soft rays of light fade in and out as cloud cover shifts in the cooled breeze, filtering through trees that grew through the stonework and cement. Were the situation different he might have paused to admire the area's quiet melancholy, or considered the use of such a structure in a "shopping center". 

Erratic streaks of a black liquid and blood contrast the atmosphere. In the center of it all, the crumpled form of a warped and beaten android lies in a pool of a fetid mixture of liquids. It's nearly unrecognizable to him in this state, the head in particular is barely more than a smear on the ground with a few bits of bloodstained metal. The body writhes as he passes it, sending chills down his spine. 

He dimly registers that it's wearing his coat.

The sharp ring of metal on stone leads him to the far corner of the rotunda. There, obscured by shadows, is the hunched over form of 2B. She repeatedly strikes at a large crater in the wall with a crude metal pipe that drips with blood from an unknown source.

9S wastes no time in sprinting over to her, "2B! 2B are you-"

The moment his hand touches her shoulder she whips around so fast that he doesn't see the pipe when it cracks against his face. He barely registers her wheezing screams as dots cloud his vision.

9S yelps, reeling backward and holding his face. A dull throbbing pain blossoms outward from his cheeks and though it's enough to make him clench his teeth, no alerts flash to warn him of a broken frame. It's not the pain that makes tears well up in his eyes, but shock. 

There's something akin to shock on 2B's face as well, though it being drenched in red made her appear far more sinister. Her visor is soaked with a combination of blood and tears, and slightly askew. There's dark spots in her hair that he assumes to be bleeding wounds, though he can't get a good enough look to be sure. She looks wild, feral almost. If she wasn't stumbling away from him, 9S might have feared another attack.

"No...No.." she mutters against the pain of he shredded throat. 

9S reaches out to her, "2B! It's okay, I'm alright just let me-"

"No no no no...." 

She shakes her arm violently in an attempt to dislodge the pipe from what used to be her hand. A gory mess that can barely be described as a pulp, from which loose tendons tangle around the length of metal pipe.. At this distance he can make out only a thumb and part of her palm from the glorified stump. 

"2B! Calm down it's just me!"

Though it's hard to say for certain with her visor on, she looks past him. She gazes into the distance, her whole body shaking in time with her rapid breathing. 9S casts a look behind him just in case something is there behind him, instead of the ghosts 2B sees. 

"I can't...keep doing...this.." she forces out, straining her throat further. 

9S reaches out to her, perhaps a bit too quickly as she raises her blood-soaked weapon at him and takes a step back. He flinches away from her, his hands instinctively jolting up to protect himself. More injuries become apparent to him. The arm that hangs limp by her side, the way she keeps her weight off of one leg, and the crooked angle of her nose and jaw. So he approaches her again, a bit more forcefully.

"2B please, I need repair you!"

Her gaze darts between him and the ruined corpse in the center of the rotunda, "Not again...Not...again!"

"Calm down! You're going to overload if you don't-"

She screams at him, though it's more of a gurgling cry. "Get away!"

9S puts his hands up once more, "I'm trying to help you, damnit!" He winces at the harshness in his own voice. A brief moment of self awareness before being consumed by panic once more, "You're badly hurt, let me help!"

2B stops all movements save for her shaking. She just stares through him, unfocused on any tangible thing surrounding her, and her mouth forms words that never make it past her lips. He thinks she's overloaded, but when 9S takes a tentative step towards her she snaps back to reality and sinks further into herself. 

"Oh come on!" His frustration at her behavior boils over, "It's always this same situation every time you get hurt!" He can't stem the heated words that rise in his throat like bile, "Why are you always like this?!"

Memories of a similar, more perilous situation in the desert flash through his mind. Her plea for him to leave her there, and his exhausted refusal. 

It all rings too familiar to him.

She raises the remains of her hand to the side of her head, just above her ear. "Too loud...it's too...loud." She mutters to no one in particular, a distinct, pathetic whimper present in her voice. Her body quakes visibly, whether from fear or exhaustion is uncertain. 

They've done this too many times before.

"You're going to make it worse if you don't let me help!" 9S tries once more to approach her, only to be met with the same resistance. Despite his best efforts his fear and anger get the better of him. 

"God you are so fucking frustrating!!" He shouts. His hands are balled into fists, teeth clenched together, and chest heaving with the effort of furious breathing. He's furious. Furious at her behavior, her stubbornness, her sorrow.

He's furious at himself for lashing out at her when she needs him.

2B stumbles back at his words, as if she's been hit with a physical object. Her foot catches on a raised root, thwarting all her terabytes of balance, equilibrium, and combat data and sending her crashing to the ground. She makes a pathetic noise, somewhere between a gasp and a cry of pain as her body sprawls out on the dirt. For a split second she sits there, stunned, before curling into herself. Her knees touch her forehead and she pulls her arms so close to her chest that they're hidden against her quietly shuddering frame.

9S rushes over to her but stops short when he sees her try to curl into herself even further. Regret and dread drag his stomach to his feet. As good as his intentions were, he had only succeeded in making the situation worse. A dull sickness worms it's way through him as his harsh words echo in his mind, but there's no time for him to feel sorry for himself. He quickly shakes the loathing away. There will be time to properly apologize later. 

"Hey...it's me. It's just me, 2B." He says in the softest voice he can manage. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I shouldn't have yelled like that. I'm so sorry..."

As he takes a few tentative steps forward, he crushes a branch under his boot with a echoing snap and 2B further retreats into herself. 

"Sorry, sorry....Here I'm just gonna sit down, okay?" 

9S slowly sits cross legged about ten feet away from her, though not slowly enough to prevent her from flinching. His mind races, trying to formulate just how he was going to try to help her. Everything has to be careful and planned, otherwise she would never get the medical attention she needs.

But what the hell is he supposed to do.

9S sits there, wringing the hem of his shorts in his hands while 2B sits curled into herself as if she was trying disappear. He knows he should allow her to calm down on her own but...seeing her like this is just...it's too difficult to watch without doing something. 

Touching or holding her is far out of the question, since he can't even get near her without her reacting. That just leaves talking her down to a place where she'll allow him to touch her, to heal her.

_Come on chatterbox...just say something...anything. Didn't she say your voice is soothing before? Just...just fucking say something, scanner boy._

"Hey...2B? Can you hear me?" 

She doesn't respond at first, as 9S expects to happen. The way she's shuddering at even the smallest sounds doesn't give him much hope of a real response. But she nods her head, a barely noticeable motion that he almost misses. He breathes a small sigh of relief. At least she hadn't shut down so much that she can't hear him anymore.

"Good. That's good. " 9S says, taking a deep breath afterwards.

"Please..." 2B says in a hoarse whisper, "leave me..."

She must have overloaded her vocal processors with her screaming... 

"You know I'm not going to do that, 2B. After all the close calls we've had, after everything we've been through together you know I won't leave you. Not ever." He shuffles himself an inch closer to her. "And I know you'd do the same thing if it were me over there instead of you."

She whines in a voice that shakes along with her body but doesn't respond beyond that. 

"Remember when that machine shoved me into the canyon? Even though I wasn't even damaged that badly you insisted on carrying me the entire way back to the resistance camp." 

2B's shoulders heave and a low, breathy sound escapes her. It almost sounds like a laugh, though it could be hyperventilation. He shuffles forward a little more, with the hope of making a bit more progress.

"Or when we fought that deserter? We hauled each other back that time."

He subconsciously touches his chest where the nearly faded scar was beneath his coat. A phantom ache echoes in his frame where the lance pierced him what seemed like ages ago. It isn't a pleasant memory for either of them, but it exemplifies his point. Hopefully that comes across to her in this state.

"You wouldn't leave my side for days afterward. Even when you knew I was fine. I'm not going to abandon you. Not when you need me most."

2B takes a long, shuddering breath before speaking. "Why..."

The echo of a past conversation, a past confession, sends sharp pangs of guilt through 9S' heart. As much as he wants to let those powerful emotions be known to her in their entirety, they'll only make her more fearful and reclusive.

"You already know the answer to that, 2B..."

Perhaps another time. 

Her shaking calms a little and her breathing evens out a bit more. For a moment 9S feels as if he's made real progress, until she flinches violently and hisses in pain. 

"H...Hurts..."

9S hurriedly closes the remaining distance between them. She doesn't do much besides whimper when he places his hand on her shoulder, but it's still protest. 

"I know, I know it hurts. I'm going to help you, okay? I'm here to help."

9S leans back to examine her injuries. She still has her face pressed against her knees and partially covered by her right arm, that would require a little more coaxing to get to. Her left arm dangles by her side. Either a dislocated shoulder or a broken one, he concludes. The right arm is fine at first glance, up until what remains of her hand. He dreads what he might have to do when it comes time to deal with the pipe tangled in the stray tendons.

"I'm going to take a look at your leg, alright?" He says, gingerly placing his hand on her right calf, just below the knee. 

2B doesn't make any form of protest this time, so he continues with his examination. There's damage, but for the most part it's superficial. A small laceration surrounded by dark bruising is patched up easily. Just a quick application of staunching to prevent any infections. Still, he imagines it's going to be sore for a while, so he keeps his touches as gentle as he can. 

How many times have they been in this scenario, he wonders. They're only moments of closeness and intimacy were only after one, or occasionally both of them, had nearly died. She wasn't entirely to blame, though. He had his own barriers he maintained. Only after they were physically and mentally broken did either of them try to connect with the other. 

Why was it this way? Why couldn't they just spend quiet moments together doing inane things? Why couldn't they just sit and enjoy each other's presence? Why did he take her for granted, always believing that the next moment would be different.

He glances back at the still writhing corpse.

He knows why. 

2B shifts forward so that her legs are touching his. Carefully, 9S brings a hand around to rub her back. As gentle as his ministrations are, she shudders and flinches at his touch. He feels around her shoulder as softly as possible, trying to find exactly what is out of place or broken while his free hand takes hold of hers.

"Can you move your arm at all?" He asks, cradling her hand in his.

She takes a shaking breath and lifts her arm a little. It seems like she's about to reach for his face before her hand falls limp into his once again. 

"Did that hurt you to do?"

"A...bit." She wheezes.

9S concludes that it's a mixture of a dislocated shoulder and exhaustion that's keeping her from using her undamaged arm fully. It's an easy fix, but not one he should do now. It'd only add more unneeded stress. 

She starts moving her hand again, raising it slowly and shakily till it comes to rest on his chest. At first, 9S thinks she's touching the place where he had been run through with a lance, but her hand is off center, just over his heart. Over a wound he doesn't recall receiving. 

"I only...hurt you." 2B chokes out, "Why...do you s-...stay."

Without thinking, he takes her hand in his and grips it gently. "You know that's not true, 2B. If..if you had the choice you'd never do anything to hurt me. You're a good, kind person 2B. I know you are."

"No..." she grasps his coat in her shaking fist, "Im....a monster."

Her tremors return but only for a brief moment, quieted by the simple motion of 9S rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand. It struck him as odd, and a bit heartbreaking, that a gesture as simple as this would prevent her from slipping further into despair. 

"No...No you're not, 2B. You-"

9S looks over his shoulder to the now still corpse. His breath catches in his throat as a grim truth replays in his mind. 

Monstrous deeds committed in the name of monstrous commands. 

"You..."

How could he lie to her face? Lie and say that her actions weren't repulsive, or had no lasting effect? Not while he sees first hand the results of her sins. His words of comfort lie unsaid on his tongue, long forgotten. 

2B twists the fabric of his coat in her grip, "You know...what I am....What I've done..."

9S lowers his head, "Yes. I do."

It feels like hours pass by in silence, though in reality it's only for a few moments. The idle sounds of nature return in the quite seconds that pass between them. Birds return to their roosts, a boar grunts softly as it noses through some foliage in another part of the facility. 

Eventually, 2B speaks again. "How...long." 

"I've...known a while now." 9S sighs, gripping her hand in both of his. 

Before she has the chance to say anything 9S pulls her hand up to his face, letting her palm rest on his cheek.

"I know what you're going to say. Why haven't I left yet. Why haven't I tried to kill you before you do the same to me. And...I don't really have an answer for that, beyond that I-....well, you already know."

2B's body shakes as she takes as deep a breath as she can, "I...I do."

With the gentlest of movements, 9S shifts her hand slightly and presses his lips against the inside of her wrist.  She tenses at first, a stranger to such tender gestures. 

"I'm here to provide support, 2B. Please...let me help you."

For the first time since he found her breaking herself against the wall, she looks at him. It's only a slight upward tilt of her head, but he can feel her eyes on him beneath her visor. Trembling fingers ghost across his face, across the bruise he's sure is forming. Again he takes her hand and kisses her, this time on the knuckles. 

2B slowly, with the help of 9S, let's her legs slide away from her chest. They lie framing 9S on either side, almost protectively. He carefully places the hand he's holding across her lap while he turns his attention to her other, grievously damaged arm. 

The rusted pipe remains locked in her remaining fingers and tangled in a bloody mess of tendons. The remainder of her hand is pulverized down to her wrist. Sparks fly out of exposed wires and tubes, which cause her last two fingers to twitch. Even 9S' gentle hold on her arm makes her hiss in pain.

"Okay...okay I'm gonna...I'm going to have to cut this off of you."

2B only groans softly in response as he retrieves a scalpel from his bag. He whispers quiet reassurances each time she whimpers when a tendon is cut, each time the pipe scrapes against exposed bone. Once all the strips of synthetic flesh fall away and the only thing holding onto that damnable chunk of metal is her, 9S rubs soft circles around her thumb.

"Ssshh...It's alright. You're doing great." He takes the pipe in his grip, "Just let go...."

Slowly, accompanied by the faint sound of creaking metal, her fingers uncurl from her crude weapon and let it fall into 9S' hand. 

"That's it. There you go..."

He beckons his Pod over to apply staunching gel and vaccines while he tosses the pipe as far away from them as he possibly could. It's clatters reverberate through the ruins, startling a flock of crows that had begun to pick at the feral corpse. The uncanny, lifeless eyes stare back at him.. Mocking him. 

9S would never do anything to hurt 2B. Her presence literally illuminates his life, giving him something to treasure, to fight for. Causing her harm in any fashion is abhorrent to him.. 

But he has.

He does.

And it sickens him to his core.

He's capable of hating her and he hates himself for it. 

He's a monster.

They both are.

"9...S."

2B's strained voice breaks him out of his brief daze. Pod 153 finishes what little field aid it can manage and returns to its post a bit above him. Her wound is essentially sealed shut with the sickly yellow fluids, however it is only a temporary fix. 9S fears that they may have to replace the hand entirely, as opposed to trying to salvage the meager remains. As an extra measure against unnecessary strain on the gel, 9S removes his visor and wraps it tightly around her stump hand. 

"There, that should hold together till we get back to the camp." He says with a small, comforting smile. 

A drop of red on his gloves brings his attention what he had been dreading to examine. 2B's face.

The injuries are almost as grievous as what was left of her hand. It's hard for 9S to tell exactly how bad they are, considering the copious amounts of blood pouring from her mouth and nose. Some had dried and began to crust, while other parts still drip. Her jaw is crooked and swollen, and the bridge of her nose is twisted at a grotesque angle. When her bruised lips part slightly so she can breath, he notices gaps in her teeth where some are missing. 

 The damage to her face is too extensive for 9S to properly repair at the moment, much like her hand. However he isn't about to let her be covered in blood and grime when that's well within his abilities. He produces a handful of tissues and a small bottle of water from his bag, setting them to the side for a moment.

"Here...." 9S says as he reaches around 2B's head and unties her visor. 

Parts of the thick cloth are hard with dried blood and stick to her skin. There are points where 9S has to practically peel it away, earning a few hisses that 2B fails to bite back. They're quickly met with soft apologies from 9S. He lets the visor fall into her lap while he wets a few tissues with the water bottle.

2B's red, irritated eyes never leave his face as he wipes a mixture of blood and tears off of her face. Even with one so badly swollen it may as well be shut, he can still feel her gaze on him as he works. She'll wince and whimper when he accidentally touches a spot near one of the countless fractures she's suffering.

The supply of tissues is all but depleted by the time 9S finishes cleaning the blood and tears off 2B's face. It's a start, but there's still countless repairs that will have to be done. They need to get back to the Resistance Camp as soon as possible, but...

"Do you think you can stand?" 9S asks.

It isn't that her legs are damaged, in fact aside from some bruising they're completely fine. It's the physical and mental exhaustion that he's worried about. If left unchecked it's possible for it to throw her motor systems into disarray.  

9S rises to his feet first and places one hand on her back while the other wraps around her stomach to help her balance. Her body shakes as she attempts to pull herself to her feet and at first she leans on 9S for all of her stability. Even with the extra support, 2B's legs buckle under her own weight, leaving 9S to practically drag her. 

"S-...sorry.." she mutters.

There aren't a whole lot of options for 9S. He doesn't have the physical strength to carry 2B the whole way back to camp, nor is it the safest option with hostile machines in the area. Staying in one place isn't viable either for the same reason. 

"...Pod, call Anemone for a rescue party at these coordinates."  9S commands.

"Alert: It is not recommended that Unit 9S attempt to move Unit 2B in her current condition."

"It's not very far. I can carry her there at least. Send out the coordinates."

"Affirmative."

There were times in the past where 2B would have to carry his battered body when he couldn't walk. Typically after he threw himself in front of an attack meant for her, or less than heroically tripped and fell off a ledge. He recalls feeling safe in her sure grip and strong arms. 

He's fairly certain that she does not feel the same in his arms.  

As a scanner model, his body is built for agility and stealth. He is built to run away or attack from a distance, not to lift a nearly three hundred pound combat android. His knees threaten to buckle from the extra weight, but he manages to hold steady. With clenched teeth and straining muscles 9S carries 2B in his arms as she has done so many times before. 

It's taxing on his body to say the least. There are multiple times where he has to stop for a moments rest, otherwise he might collapse. 2B doesn't make much sound beyond the occasional soft grunt whenever he stumbles over a root or stray stone. She just stares at him, only looking away when 9S flashes a quick smile down at her. 

It takes longer than he would have liked, but they soon arrive at the run down elevator. They had found this place about a week or so ago while helping the strange character known only as "Emil". 9S had made return trips several times whenever he needed a few moments of quiet. 2B on the other hand hadn't been back since.. Seeing her bloodshot eyes light up at the sight of hundreds of glowing flowers, just like that first time, gave him at least a small twinge of hope.

"This place should be safe from any hostile machines.. We'll wait here for the rescue team to arrive, okay?" 

2B stares at the ground, too transfixed by the lunar tears to respond beyond a faint sigh. In the soft white glow of the flowers, her warped face looks almost...peaceful. 

9S sits in the center of the field where the flowers are sparse with 2B propped up against his chest, her arms carefully folded in her lap. He holds her close, carefully avoiding damaged areas and occasionally running his fingers through her hair.

"It's okay...We're okay, 2B." He whispers as her body shakes once again.

"9S...I don't-"

"Stop. Don't finish that sentence." He says perhaps a bit too sternly, "Just...Rest for now. We can talk about everything later."

She hums a quiet response, content for the moment to reach out and trace the hidden details of a flower petal while in his embrace. 

Maybe...

Just maybe....

They were going to be alright.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops

The road to recovery is never an easy one, especially where 2B is concerned. She wouldn't outright refuse the initial treatments, in fact she'd be considered a model patient. It's only when the healer's instructions are to "take it easy for a few days" that her stubbornness gets the better of her. 2B does not sit still well. She'll swear up and down that she's ready to go back into the field, then take two steps and collapse barely outside her room.

This time is different.

She doesn't fight against the bindings when the medics wire her fractured jaw shut.  When they tell her not to pick at the dried staunching gel she listens. She'll lie in bed when they tell her to rest.

She moves listlessly from medic tent to their small room, and back each day. Even when 9S suggests they walk around the camp to stretch her legs she refuses, preferring to stay in bed.

As much as 9S wants her to rest and recover, he hates seeing her like this. It is so painful watching someone who had so much fire in her be reduced to pitiful embers.

She won't even look at him, even as he works on installing a brand new hand in the privacy of their small room.

They've been down this road before, though not quite as extreme. Sometimes when she thinks he can't see, she stares at him with sorrowful eyes only to flinch away the moment he turns back to her. She used to hold her head high, projecting confidence and even a bit of pride. Now she hangs her head in shame, turned away from anyone who would offer to help.

They sit in silence, broken only by the occasional metallic creak or surge of electricity. Reconnecting nerves and other circuitry is a delicate and painstaking process that thankfully consumes all of 9S' attention. Anything that takes his mind off of the worry eating away at him is a welcome distraction.

It was a waste of materials in some respect, but 2B's hand had been deemed unsalvageable by the twin medics. They had to scrap what remained, the few bits that could be reused anyway, and essentially strip her wrist down to its basic joints. Getting the new hand to function was as simple as put plug A into port A, but the challenge came from making sure blood flow, nerve feedback, and identification were all working properly. It wasn't anything 9S couldn't handle, but there were a few moments where he wondered if 801S should have handled this.

The process comes to an end when 9S wraps a bandage around the connective skin graft. Though really only for cosmetic purposes, it did help prevent unnecessary wear and tear while the seams set together.

"There..." 9S sighs, giving his work a quick once over, "That should do it."

2B gives her new hand a few half-hearted flexes before muttering a quiet, yet formal thanks. Unsatisfied with her sparse response, 9S takes her hand in his once more.

"I'm going to perform a few last checks to make sure all of the nerves are working properly." He half expects her to put up some form of resistance, but she barely acknowledges him with a small nod.

9S grabs a pair of electrical tweezers from his bag, "Tell me if something feels wrong, okay?"

He begins by prodding her fingertips with the tweezers, each time all he gets in response is a twitch of her hand and a soft hum of acknowledgment. The process feels almost...hollow without her teasing him at every opportunity. Each time he pokes at a different part of her hand, he asks if she can feel it. Each time he gets the same response. He knows he should feel some sort of pride. It was a complex and delicate procedure that seems to have gone well, but...

It isn't the same.

Maybe it was that slight upward twitch of her lips that he misses the most. The faintest crack in her icy demeanor. He can't help but miss it a little, even if it was shown at his expense. It was a chance, a small one, to see her happy.

"...Can you feel this?"

9S sets the tweezers down and takes her hand in both of his, rubbing his thumb across the knuckles. It almost caught him by surprise just how smooth they felt, in comparison to her other hand which had been broken and repaired countless times.

2B's uncovered eyes dart between his hands and his face, her exhausted expression now tinged with uncertainty. She nods, slower. More cautiously.

"What about this?"

He brings her hand to his face, pressing her unblemished palm to his cheek. The fresh muscles tense and then immediately relax, almost melding into the contours of his face. Idly, her finger traces an old scar that carries memories of heat and sand. Even still, her face betrays no hint of emotion.

"...And this?"

His heart rate skyrockets and second thoughts cloud his mind, yet his body seems to move on its own. Their eyes lock as 9S shifts his head and presses his lips to the inside of her palm. It's soft. Too soft, too new. There are no scars, no callouses, no memories. It's fresh and sterile.

It hits a little too close to home.

2B all but tears her hand away from his grip, her warmth quickly replaced by the sting of cool air.  She holds her new limb close to her, practically cradling it to her chest.

"Yes, the nerves are working just fine." She mutters, turning away from him as much as she could.

"2B..." he sighs, his words dying in his throat.

He's seen the look on her face before, albeit rarely. Wide eyes, lips pulled tight, and body so rigid she might start shaking.

She's afraid.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to-..."  

Lies. Of course, he meant to kiss her hand. There was no way that could have been an accident. But, he wouldn't have done it if he knew it would make her uncomfortable.

...Probably.

He reaches out and places his hand on her old one. Even through his gloves, he can feel the distinctive bumps of previously broken knuckles. 2B doesn't flinch away but searches his expression for...something.

His hand is so warm, his touch so tender. It's-...

It's more than she deserves.

2B shuts her eyes tight as 9S' form begins to shift in her mind. It violently and rapidly flashes between the gentle partner attempting to comfort her and the horrific rotting visage of that feral monster.

Fangs snap together inches from her face. A piercing and deafening shriek rings in her ears. Wicked claws tear into her flesh and-

"2B?"

Her eyes snap open and she releases a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. A strand of 9S' hair is disturbed by the harsh rush of air. He's so close he might as well be sitting in her lap. So close that she can feel his breath on her face. His worried eyes dart across her features and suddenly she feels very exposed. That scanner programming makes her wonder if he can read her mind at times, the way he seems to read her like a line of simple code.

"2B, what's wrong?" 9S asks, his voice so gentle it almost hurts.

"Nothing. I'm fine-"

"No. No, you're not." Though still soft, his speech takes on a bit of firmness. He shifts into a more comfortable position on the edge of her bed, "You're on the verge of tears."

2B's hand shoots up to wipe away the quickly forming tears. There's no way she can hide from him, she knows this and yet she still tries. Her default reaction is to hide from him and she despises herself for it.

"I'm-..." The damning waver in her voice betrays her growing apprehension.

Tension creeps through her body, threatening to pull her apart at the seams. She grasps at her chest as if her trembling hands would help slow her pulse rate. That wide-eyed, fearful gaze returns along with visions of the rotted bastardization of her partner.

_"Cow...ard."_

Its hollow voice reverberates in her head, gaining volume as the seconds tick by.

_"_ _Finish...your job..."_

It mocks her, mocks her suffering, mocks her feeble attempts to set things right.

_"_ _You don't deserve my forgiveness..."_

It's so hard to breathe.

She realizes that the hem of her thin undershirt is beginning to tear in her grip, but she can't seem to let go of it. Her fingernails press into her chest, dangerously close to breaking the skin.

_"2...B..."_

She barely registers the tears that stream down her face or the increasingly panicked calls of 9S. He sounds so distant...

_"2...._

_...E..."_

Suddenly she's pulled forward and thin yet sturdy arms wrap around her. The trembling stops in a bizarre and near instantaneous reaction to being in 9S' embrace. She doesn't understand it, why the sensation of his hand smoothing down her hair in slow movements calms her.

"Whoa whoa hey, hey it's okay. You're okay. I'm right here." 9S whispers to her.

A shuddering breath makes her whole body shiver in his arms, "I..."

Words form and die in her throat within seconds, one after the next. She desperately wants to say something, anything. Even if it's just incoherent nonsense, but the only sound that escapes her is a low, pained groan.

"Hey, look at me." 9S says, pulling himself away to take her hands in his, then place them on either side of his face, "We're okay. We're safe here. There's nothing that can hurt you or me in here."

2B's tired eyes meet his after a long moment. A worried yet gentle smile tugs at the corners of his lips, lighting up his whole expression even with that simple motion. For a moment, nothing else exists to her besides his smile...Framed by the bloodstained hands of a monster.

"I'm here..."

Her voice is so quiet 9S almost misses it, but it tears through his heart all the same.

"2B..."

She buries her face in his chest and wraps her arms around him with such force he's afraid she might crush him. Once his initial shock fades, 9S returns her embrace and rests his head on hers. Words never came easy to her, 9S was well aware of that. Forcing her to say what was going on in her head would only make things worse for her. Besides, her actions hold much more meaning than she realizes.

They sit in their embrace for a long while, simply taking in each other's presence. There are a million and one things 9S wants to say to 2B, but none of them seem right. Some of them feel like bold face lies. He wants to tell her he doesn't care what her designation means for him, but he does. He wants to tell her that monster was just a freak statistic, but it's possible the same thing would happen to him.

He wants to tell her that he'll love her no matter what.

But she's seen first hand that isn't true.

One of 2B's hands falls from his face, her fingers lingering on his jawline and collarbone before settling just above his heart. 9S pulls himself back just enough to look down at her tear stained face.

"I don't know how, but despite everything...It's still you."

What 9S fails to say in a million words 2B says in just one simple, yet grounding phrase. Doubts and fears melt away, leaving a comforting warmth he isn't sure how to describe in his chest. Unlike an intense and passionate fire, it's impossibly soft; smoldering within him.

Unable to resist the emotions swelling in his chest, 9S lifts 2B's face and brings her into a gentle kiss in hopes that this warmth transfers to her. The tension in her body makes him fear her pulling or shoving him away, but she surprises him yet again by practically molding her lips against his. He's almost shocked at the genuine emotion that seems to be driving her, as opposed to the sexual drive he had come to expect. He barely represses a smile.

Despite everything, all the pain and suffering, the heartache, the lies and deceit, the hopelessness; despite all of this...

It's still him.

And she's still her.

9S breaks their kiss all too soon and rests his forehead against hers. He sighs contentedly, taking in the heat of her body and her heavy breaths against his face. Once again he takes her hands in both of his, after removing his thick gloves. He runs his thumbs across either hand, admiring the contrasting textures. The hard calluses and rough skin of her old hand, and the softness of her new one.

"2B...Thank you." He whispers.

She hums a quiet response as her breathing begins to even out, though 9S barely registers the sound. He's still marveling at her hands, how even the old one with all its scars and calluses still feels so delicate, and be a devastating weapon in its own right. He wants to hold them, to feel them in his own hands and-...

He wants...

"2B?"

"...Yeah?" She replies, raising her head slightly to look him in the eye.

"Um...how do you feel? Your injuries I mean."

2B shifts herself a little, "Hm...still a bit sore in certain places. Why?"

9S takes a quick breath, "I-...2B, you mean so much to me. More than I think I can really say properly."

She tilts her head to the side in a way that 9S finds unbearably adorable.

"And I know you're not...comfortable with me saying half the things I want to say but-... I mean maybe you are now but you aren't that good with the emotional side of-..."

"9S."

He swears he hears the hint of a smile in her voice, "Ugh, sorry I'm rambling. What I mean is...I want to, if it's alright with you, I want to show you how much you mean to me in a way I think you'll understand better."

His eyebrows knit together a bit as she searches his eyes. It's a long shot, he knows this. She might not even be physically ready for that sort of thing. It didn't hurt to ask of course, and the worst she could say is "no" or  
"not right now". That didn't stop the anxiety from tying his stomach into knots, however.

"...okay."

"Really?"

She nods, reaffirming herself.

"Okay." He responds, a soft grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

He leans forward, tugging her by the shoulder so that they meet in the middle for a kiss that ends far too quickly for 2B.

“Hold on, I have an idea.”

9S all but leaps off the bed, leaving a bewildered 2B to watch him scramble about their small room. She can’t help but smile at his palpable excitement, and the childlike way he gathers as many pillows as he can hold in his thin arms. There’s so many that his face is hidden beneath more cushions than she thought were in the room.

With careful precision he places each pillow around 2B’s body, building a soft and rudimentary version of what the humans used to call a throne. He had read about the concept a while ago, humans who held grand positions of power sat on thrones like a status symbol. In reality, he was only doing this so 2B could be comfortable, but the symbolism wasn’t lost on him. Though from 2B’s confused expression it was going right over her head.

Oh well, the hidden meanings could be his little treasures.

When the construction is completed 2B leans back onto the makeshift throne, her hands interlocked with 9S’. It was strange having him above her like this, an oddly dominant position though not at all unfitting or unwelcome. Yet there’s something about what he’s built for her that still rings as submissive behavior, though the intricacies are lost on her.

Once she’s settled, 9S sits back on his knees and smiles at her.

“Just relax, okay?” He says in a soft, gentle voice. He raises her hands to his lips and smirking just a bit when he hears the faintest gasp escape 2B.

“Leave everything to me.”

2B makes the same mistake over and over. She believes she can predict 9S’ actions, motivations, and the like. In reality, she has no idea the full extent of his intentions. There’s barely any sexual energy behind the kiss they share, at least from his side. It’s gentle, soft. She finds herself wanting to describe it as sweet, though his slick skin has no real taste.

His hands cup the sides of her face as he deepens their ki, nipping and sucking gently on her lower lip. He tilts her head back just enough to get a better angle as he slides his tongue into her waiting mouth. The soft, barely audible mewl that he feels resonate against his lips sends an intoxicating chill down his spine. When he finally pulls away from her, she almost looks like a pouting child. Her swollen lips draw him back in once more, but only for a brief moment.

2B’s hands start to creep up his arms, but before she can make any progress 9S restrains them in his. The moment she realizes that he meant what he said before, her hands go limp and await his next move. Again, he finds himself transfixed by these delicate limbs that could very easily tear his head off before he could react, and the duality between her original hand and the sterile replacement. 9S brings his attention to the old hand first, pressing the very tip of her index finger to his lips.

She still doesn’t seem to understand what he’s doing, though she isn’t about to stop him. She didn’t expect it to feel...nice when he kisses each finger so gently. Her eyes never leave his face as he works his lips down each thin finger and lingers on each warped knuckle.

9S lavishes each part of her hand with light kisses, making sure to touch each out of place bump and callous. Each patch of rough skin, though a bit unpleasant to feel against his lips, held the memories of countless battles. Won and lost. Her strength, weakness, and growth all mapped out in hardened tissue and traced by his lips.

He kisses her palm, then the inside of her wrist; he lingers there a moment longer to savor the faint twitch of her pulse. He then does something that surprises even him. Switching to 2B’s replacement hand, he begins the same motions as before. However, when he brings her fingers to his lips he pulls it into his mouth, instead of simply kissing it. At first, he’s afraid that he’s overstepped himself and that she’ll pull away, but the quiet whimper that’s stifled as soon as he hears it spurs him on. He curls his tongue around her finger and sucks gently but hard enough to make a soft noise and a wet pop when he moves to the next.

Each smooth finger shimmers in the soft light of their room when he finally moves on. 9S’ mind spins as he plans three steps ahead of himself and almost breaks his resolve to jump ahead. His lips and tongue trace the faint seam that separates her new hand from her wrist with heavy breaths, then down her forearm to linger on the inside of her elbow. He follows the map of battle scars on her arm with the lightest of touches, moving up to her shoulder a bit faster than he would have liked.

It becomes difficult for 9S to think properly as he presses his face into the crook of 2B’s neck, drinking in a scent that he could really only describe as “2B”. His pulse spikes when he feels hers thundering against his lips, driving him to playfully nip at the skin, and again when she makes a stilted gasp in response. There’s a very brief moment where he swears he feels her tremble in his arms. His tongue dips into her collarbone as his hands tangle themselves in her hair. She’s straining against herself, he can tell that much by the way her arms shiver by her sides. As a reward for her cooperation, his hands slide up her shirt and splay across her taut stomach. Her synthetic muscles tense and shudder at the touch. It surprises him just how sensitive she is.

Quickly getting drunk off the feeling of her skin, 9S lifts her shirt over her head then pulls her into a fierce kiss. Much to 2B’s disappointment, it doesn’t last very long, but her pout is replaced with a gasping moan when she feels his mouth meet her breast. Perhaps he’s getting ahead of himself. Perhaps he’s letting things get too heated too quickly, but he wants to hear her voice. He wants to hear her lose her inhibitions and scream his name. He doesn’t even know if she has the ability to do that but damned if he isn’t going to try.

His fingers rake down her sides, marveling at the subtle change from hard corded muscle fibers to the soft layer of synthetic fat that protects her belly. It becomes harder and harder to control himself, between the moans that strain against 2B’s self-control and how good it feels to nip and suck the soft flesh of her breasts. He rolls his tongue against one nipple in time with the way her body writhes underneath him. Her leg just barely grazes his groin, and that simple bit of friction makes him see stars for the briefest of moments. 9S pulls himself back from her breasts, a thin trail of drool still connecting his mouth to them. He gasps for air, his heart drumming in his chest at a concerning pace. 2B looks much the same as him, her whole upper body heaves with each breath she gulps down. He’s never seen her face so red before. It’s almost...cute.

They sit there for a while, 9S on his knees over 2B who clutches at pillows with shuddering hands. His own hands tremble as well, twitching along with the beat of his heart and shaky breaths. There’s a distinct heat that spreads from his cheeks to his ears, all the way down between his legs. He becomes almost painfully aware of how tight his little black shorts are, but he has to remind himself that this about her.

“You alright?” 9S asks in between breaths.

2B gives him just a slight nod. Her dark eyes with pupils blown wide mirror his own, anxious for him to return to his task. The tension in her face fades as she reaches her hand up to trace the remnants of the bruise she had left him just a few weeks ago.

A quiet laugh, soft and breathy, bubbles in 9S’ chest as her calloused fingers tickle the bridge of his nose. Even after that sound fades, that smile still remains. That damnably innocent smile of his that makes 2B’s artificial heart swell in her chest. It practically illuminates his whole face and in turn, hers.

9S takes her hand in his once again and brings it to his cheek. Immediately 2B’s hand, the hand of a war-torn veteran, molds to the curve of his face with a gentleness that he didn’t think was possible for her. He sighs, a long contented sound that mimics the warmth radiating from her whole body.

If he weren’t the sort of person he was, 9S would have stopped there and simply lay next to her for the following few hours; basking in the afterglow of just those few acts. But when it comes to 2B, especially after everything she had gone through recently, he refuses to hold back.

He slides his hands down the sides of her body, coming to rest on the hem of her borrowed shorts. His breath catches in his throat as he pictured what lies beneath. The image alone nearly breaks his self-control once again. Before it does, 9S focuses on a part of her body that had been the downfall of his concentration on many missions. Her legs.

It registers in the back of his mind, as he peels one knee high sock off agonizingly slow, that he’s seen her bare legs on only a few occasions. Even then for just the briefest of moments before his shyness got the best of him or 2B covered up. Even the one time they had been intimate before, very little attention was paid to her legs.

This time is different.

Punctuated by a whine from 2B, 9S plants searing kisses to the soft flesh of her inner thigh close enough to the hem of her shorts that his head swims from both anticipation and her scent. He leaves another kiss just an inch closer and a half second longer to burn that smell into his memory. A dull ache worms through the back of his mouth, just on the edge of his tongue. A burning desire to taste. But it’s too soon, there’s still more to be done.

He drags his teeth down the inside of her leg while his hands massage at the top. It’s the malleability that catches him off guard. He knew they were soft, but they formed perfectly against his hands and face like the pillows that support the rest of 2B’s body. He bites and sucks and her synthetic flesh, leaving a trail of crescent indents that begin to turn a deep shade of purple. One of 2B’s hands run through his hair in time with her writhing body. For a brief moment, he feels her fingernails dig into his scalp then release before they can form that iron grip of hers. When his lips connect with the back of her knee, her whole lower body shivers and she mutters something he doesn’t quite understand.

Feather light kisses and ghostly touches lavish the transition between the almost plush flesh of her thighs, and the solid muscles in her calves. It feels as if he’s holding strength itself, raw and unrefined in his thin hands. In one quick motion, she could easily snap his neck or crush his skull between her legs.

In all honesty that wouldn’t be such a terrible way to go.

The thought sends a delightful shiver down his spine. He moans, a lewd sound that’s muffled against her calf. The muscles in her legs twitch and shudder with each kiss and each mark he leaves, goading him to more fervent motions. He raises her leg up to get a better angle on the underside of her calf then moving down to her ankle. As he begins to move down to the top of her foot, his frantic pace slows to a crawl.

A memory surfaces in his mind. In the same records where 9S found the concept of the throne, he also read about how the humans of old treated their royalty. One gesture, in particular, stood out to him, one that humans believed was one of the ultimate acts of submission.

9S holds her foot as if he’s holding something fragile, as opposed to something that has crushed the life from countless machines. It’s odd how his body calms as he places his lips on the top of 2B’s foot, a warmth filling his body like before. Though both of them are aching for each other’s bodies, his kiss is remarkably innocent. It’s simple, light, and gentle. A far cry from the line of passionate bruises left on her thigh.

2B’s head tilts to the side and 9S can’t help but chuckle a bit. The symbolism is again lost on her, many human rituals were. It doesn’t stop him from kissing the arch of her foot, however. He wants to believe he sees a dawning realization soften her expression. He wants to believe that she understands what this means to him, and how powerful this would have been to a human.

Perhaps, one day he’ll tell her.

The ache returns in his mouth with crippling force. For a moment he chooses to ignore it, but then the simple ache grows into a searing burn. His resolve fractures, along with what remained of his bashfulness. If he doesn’t do this now, he feels as if he’s going to combust. With eerie fluidity, 9S slides his hands up her legs and hips until they reach the hem of her shorts. There’s a small, pleading whimper from 2B. She’s just as anxious as he is it seems.

9S’ hands tremble as he peels her tiny black undershorts off. He doesn’t know why, it’s illogical. He’s seen her naked before, they’ve even had sex once before. Perhaps it’s because that last time was a blur of feverish lust, and not as careful and deliberate as this. He kisses her stomach once again, then the sharp outline of her hip. Inching closer and closer to his goal, his pulse skyrockets and second thoughts swarm his mind.

9S’ lips just barely touch down above her slit-

“Oh-...Nines…”

That lewd moan decimates what little remained of his reservations. 9S shuffles his body so that he’s situated with her legs on his shoulders and her lower body elevated slightly. The first few kisses he plants on her sex are tortuously light, to the point where 2B is nearly begging for him. She whimpers and writhes with each passing minute, arching her back and grinding her hips against his face as much as her position would allow.  
Her hands worm through his hair as he works his mouth against her folds, nails digging into his scalp whenever he hits a particularly sensitive spot. His name leaves her lips over and over and it only serves to drive him further.

9S could have never imagined himself doing this. Such things were forbidden by Yorha after all, not that it stopped anyone. Well...he definitely imagined himself doing this, but only in wild fantasies he never thought he’d achieve. Manic pipe dreams kept deep in his subconscious, only reflected on in hedonistic solitude. He always wondered why they were programmed to have these thoughts, to feel this crippling desire to touch and please one another, especially if they were supposed to be these stone-faced soldiers. Perhaps it was just one more way to imitate humanity, like many other parts of themselves.

Though perhaps this isn’t the best time to think about that.

The more 2B reacts, the bolder 9S grows. His curiosity gets the best of him, even in this setting. What happens if he massages her breasts at the same time? How will her body move if he licks here? What sounds will she make if he sucks at the hardening nub of flesh just above her entrance? How far can he push her before she breaks?

 

She yanks at his hair as 9S sucks at that sweet spot, pulling him further in. It’s incredibly stupid of him, but he always underestimates just how strong she is. Not that he really minds the pain, in fact, it sends a delicious burn through his gut and down to his groin. He semi-reluctantly removes a hand from her body to rub himself through those infuriatingly tight shorts, desperate for relief of his own. The moment his hand even grazes his cock his hips jerk forward and begin an erratic bucking motion. 9S takes his other hand and rubs circles around 2B’s folds while still working his mouth on her clit. He slides one finger inside her, then a second to hear her try and fail to fight back a loud moan.

“Fuck-...”

Feeling her twitch and writhe at his every move is addictive, no wonder she liked being in control last time. Watching her reactions and know he caused it makes pride swell in his chest, as well as another more elicit emotion. He curls his fingers inside her, trying to find the right combination of movement that will break that last bit of restraint she’s clinging to.

“Nines...please.”

It’s the only thing that could get him to stop. The sound of 2B unabashedly begging catches 9S so off guard that he raises his head to look at her with this dumbfounded expression. 2B, his superior. Her body heaving with each frantic breath, hair splayed out as erratically as her limbs, face bright red, and on the verge of orgasm. She looks like a mess.

9S has never seen anything more beautiful.

Those damnably tight shorts don’t even make it all the way off. They sit around his knees in a crumpled heap as he hastily repositions himself above her. His hands frame either side of her face, holding up his body which trembles with anticipation.

Even now, when both of them clearly want what is about to come, worry creeps into the back of 9S’ mind. Would she be alright if they went through with this? There was the possibility that he’d aggravate her injuries.

“...Are you going to be okay?” 9S asks in a breathless voice, “Your injuries…”

2B responds with a whining grunt and bucks her hips against his, making him gasp and choke on his own words. He made a mental note to be gentle, or as gentle as he could be at this point.

Just to tease her a bit more, just to hear those sounds she makes for him alone, 9S grinds his hips down on her. It would have gone on longer had it not been for his own nearly painful arousal. Taking extra care to not cause her any more pain than necessary, he angles his cock and slides into her slowly. Her legs hook together around his waist and draw him in further. Powerful arms struggle to find purchase, settling on his back and digging fingernails into his spine. They’re both too breathless to make any sort of sound beyond a strangled gasp, but to 9S the lack of air makes it all the more exhilarating.  

It’s nearly a minute before either of them start to move in short twitching thrusts in an uneven rhythm. 9S sets the pace, lazily rolling his hips into hers. 2B relaxes her body, tension melting away as her arms slide down to his hips. She even allows her eyes to open meeting his with a small smile. Idly, 9S wonders if he should be getting oxygen deprivation warnings.

9S’ head dips to let his forehead rest on hers and listens to the quiet hums she makes every so often. That subtle warmth from before spreads from his chest to fill his whole body. At first, he worries that he’s starting to overheat, but he’s overheated before and it does not feel as...He’s not exactly sure how to describe it. It’s not an entirely alien feeling, he knows he’s felt this before, but not to this extent. It’s impossibly soft and grounds him to 2B; as if this was the place he was meant to be in this chaotic universe.

The way 2B reaches up and cups his face in her hands makes him think she feels the same.

A familiar tightness coils in his gut and the two share a knowing glance. The slow, almost sleepy pace shifts into more frantic but still passionate thrusts. 9S takes one hand and drags his nails down her chest and stomach, slowing for a moment to trace a long vertical scar on her belly. His fingers fumble around for that tiny nub just above where their bodies meet, then rubbing in circles in time with his thrusts.

2B’s hands tangle in his hair, tugging at fistfuls each time he rocks into her. The dull pain only adds to his pleasure, mixing together in an intoxicating wave that shoots down his spine. Her breath, hot and heavy on his face, carries his name like a prayer. His nickname, not his designation. It’s so human it might be considered hearsay to some androids. Not that either of them cares.

Suddenly, she cries out and pulls her whole body up to bury her face in his shoulder. For a split second 9S panics, worried that he put pressure on an injury. But that passes when 2B meets him thrust for thrust. With his own rapidly approaching peak driving him, he takes both his hands and drags them down to her hips. With the extra leverage and her powerful legs locking him in place, he pulls their bodies together hard enough that their hips collide.

She clings to him, her teeth sinking into the meat of his shoulder to stifle a high pitched cry. Her whole body quakes in his arms as she reaches her peak and a loud cry echoes through their tiny room. That one sound sends 9S over the edge as well, his whole world dissolving into a searing heat a few thrusts later. The only thing that existed to them was each other. The frantic thundering of their hearts, their heavy breaths, the faint smell of sweat and singed circuits.

Neither of them wants to move, even if they could. The muscles in 9S’ arms give out and he collapses on top of 2B in a satisfied heap. He just manages to roll off to the side of her so as not to crush her underneath. Not that he’d weigh that much to her anyway, he just wants her to be comfortable. Her hands slip under his shirt and around his back, tugging him into a warm embrace. She rests her head just under his chin, her lips barely touching his throat.

An odd thought creeps into the back of 9S’ hazy mind. He can’t help but wonder about his past selves, if they ever found out about 2B’s real purpose. How many times has 2B executed him? Did his other selves fight back? Or did they accept what was to come? How many of them took their own lives so she didn’t have to, like how he was considering.

He wonders, if any of the past 9S’ learned to love her both as 2B, and as 2E.

He doesn’t think he wants to know that answer.

“Mm….”

2B shifts around in his arms with her face still hidden against his neck and beneath her hair.

“Nines….I-....I-“

9S brushes the hair from her face and places a sleepy kiss on her forehead.

“I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> So I don’t know why all of the sudden it says that this isn’t complete but it is there’s only 3 chapters and I tried fixing it but I’m not super worried about it

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Limbo](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13952550) by [Kiloueka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiloueka/pseuds/Kiloueka)




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